Shiva's Scenes that Should Not Be (2014 Collection)
by Shiva-J
Summary: Ok, now here is where I'm going to put THIS YEARS collection of Scene's that should not be. :D
1. Dead Inside

**Dead Inside**

As a chap named Tom Sloane shook his twenty-something booty while working the stripper pole, his pink thong already filling up with cash, it took everything that he had not to cry.

Just like every single night since the family fortune was wiped out, his mother divorced his father and married another rich bloke, his father then shot himself in the face, and Elsie married his old girlfriends and was living happily in New York in the lap of luxury.

But not him, since without the family fortune he couldn't afford to finish college; much less his new found taste for that sweet cocaine.

One addiction that had ballooned into five different others, and with all of them needing cash Tom had found himself using the only thing that he had left.

"My body." He thought flatly while grinding up on the lap of the old dude who was giving him twenties.

As said gentlemen whispered that there'd be more later, 'If he was willing to do more than just dance.' Tom wondered if this would be the crazy guy that was destined to murder him, or give him AIDS.

"Doesn't matter." Tom thought as the friction got him semi-hard, and even more appealing to the audience, "I'm already dead inside."

And thus Tom Sloane truly became a stripper that night.


	2. Daria's Petition

**Daria's Petition**

"So Daria..."

"Yes Jane?"

"How exactly is that petition you made to get Justin Bieber deported going?"

"It's well over the 100,000 signature threshold, now the White House _has_ to respond."

"...You do realize that they'll probably just say no. Right?"

"Yes. However now that the whiny pop star has become the politician's problem, it's now just a matter of time before _something_ is done about it."

* * *

><p><em>At 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue<em>

From outside the White House the sounds of 'Favorite Girl' could be faintly heard from an open window in the President's daughters room.

Inside the Oval Office however a man by the name of Barack Obama was turning his iPod up to the max so he wouldn't have to hear it.

_"Thank God for Gin and Juice!"_

Obama's gaze then fell on his computer screen, specifically the stupid petition site which had the latest one on the top of the list.

_"Deport Justin Bieber, huh? Well there's no way we could pull that off..."_

Obama's face slowly morphed into something sinister.

_"But I think we could get away with a more... permanent solution."_

From outside the White House, the faint sounds of 'Forever Baby' were drowned out by mad cackling.

* * *

><p><em>The Next Day...<em>

"Well what do you know? That petition wasn't really needed after all."

Daria just shrugged her shoulders while she and Jane read the latest TMZ news report about Justin Bieber.

He was reported dead of a major codeine overdose, at the age of 19.

Other than his teenage fans (who didn't know any better), not a single fuck was given.

**FIN**


	3. Untitled Scene 1-9-14

_"so liek so tartally liek this is liek ma latesst liek fanfic thingie mick -jangle wateve cua we neeed ta gag it wth a sphoon & stufff andd liek whtever..."_

* * *

><p>"And ever since the sixth stroke this is all that Daria can write now." Jane concluded to her wife, Elsie Sloane-Lane as they stared at the husk of a woman on the hospital bed.<p>

The only indication of life in the thing was the fact that her right hand was propped up on a small table, scribbling away on the pad of paper, which periodically needed to be changed or else she'd just write all over the wood.

* * *

><p><em>"and than tella and medvart sooo totally luved each oter and junk howevr they wur both salected 2 be in da hungar thames and it wrs liek a maJOR bummur butt they weru winnArs nd the prez of panam was luzer and averytone else waz a whuteverz!<em>


	4. Advice on Motherhood

**Advice on Motherhood**

"Oh Daria," Kay Sloane laughed while dishing out advice, "Motherhood is a joyless burden, it's best just to hire a Mexican nanny to do the hard work for you."

"So in order to be happy as a parent, hire someone named Maria Consuela. Got it." Daria answered back while in the distance, her boyfriend and now baby-daddy was trying to talk his father into bribing an abortion clinic to help them fix the 'situation' without letting Daria's parents know about it.

Then she heard some dreadful words.

"Son," Angier Sloane replied to something Tom had said, "Let's be honest here. Up until now I thought you were gay and I was waiting for you to come out. And considering your sister's muff-diving I feared that I'd never have a grandchild."

Angier then looked at Daria like she was the Holy Grail.

"I'm not looking this gift horse in the mouth. You two are keeping it."

'I guess Tom's going to have to tap the trust fund so I can get a Maria Consuela on deck then.' Daria snarked internally, and darkly.

She sure as hell wasn't going to tap her Montana Cabin Fund, not with Mr. Moneybags and his stupid 'rhythm method' now on call.

But she did decide to break the news to her parents in the most sensitive manner that she could.

Skype.


	5. The Stalwart

**The Stalwart**

Eighty eight year old Doug Thompson cackled madly as he stood on the side of the highway, his bathrobe flapping in the wind of passing cars.

Which revealed his lack of underpants.

But this disturbing sight was rivaled by the huge sign he was waving as hard as his arthritic hands allowed.

On one side it read; _'Still Teabagging 4 Jesus!'_

On the other was; _'Bristol Palin 2030!_

Despite countless calls from drivers forced to witness this sight, the Lawndale Police Department was slow to respond.

They had really come to hate dealing with the old codger, those titanium dentures of his had a way of finding the weak spots in their armor and the medical bills for stitches were starting to pile up.

It sucked that Third-wave-Obamacare only covered emergency medical expenses, but after the 384th attempt at repeal of Neo-Obamacare...

**fade to the credits and the lalalalaLAlala...**


	6. Tickle Test

**Tickle Test**

Sandi suppressed a grunt of annoyance as the ever-desperate Brooke approached her and the Fashion Club in the hallways of Lawndale High.

"Hey Sandi!" Brooke called out, "Notice anything different?"

Sandi barely managed from rolling her eyes, "Let me guess... Dr. Phillips fixed the last of Shar's damage?"

"Yes!" Brooke said happily, "And now that I'm perfect again, doesn't that mean that I'm in the Fashion Club now?"

Sandi glanced at her fellow Fashion Club members and gave them a very slight nod.

This caused Quinn and Tiffany to smiled wickedly, and Stacy joined them once she remembered what the plan was for this scenario.

"Girls," Sandi drawled to an oblivious Brooke, "I think we should see if Brooke really is Fashion Club material..."

"Oh yes Sandi." Quinn replied, her eyes glowing sadistically.

"Yeeeaaahhh." Tiffany drawled, for once clearly aware of what was going on.

Stacy didn't reply verbally, instead she clutched her clutch very tightly.

"Come with us to the gym," Sandi said to Brooke, "We'll be giving you the 'tickle treatment'."

"Tickle treatment?" Brooke asked even as she followed them like a good sycophant, "What's that?"

_"You'll see..."_

* * *

><p><em>An hour later...<em>

Pavlov, Lawndale High's janitor and Ms. Li's secret lover (she just couldn't resist a Russian accent) found the body of one Brooke Tanner in the gymnasium of Lawndale High.

The coroner's office found that she had been beaten severely with multiple baseball bats, punched and kicked viciously, slashed with what was determined to be nail files, violated in all orifices with a hot curling iron, force-fed a disturbing quantity of diet soda, and the finishing touch was that her face was painted like a clown post-mortem.

However after the coroner received a visit from his old girlfriend, and occasional fuck-buddy Linda Griffin, the death of Brooke Tanner was ruled as 'accidental suicide' as related to her previous body-image issues and depression related to the medications and failed plastic surgeries she had previously endured.

In the minutes of the Fashion Club, the last comment ever given on the subject was written by Stacy Rowe:

_'On February the 14 of our Junior year, fellow Junior Brooke Tanner applied for membership in the FC and was given the Tickle Test. Failed with distinction. NGM (Not Good Material). Result: Application Rejected. Matter is Closed, Permanently.'_


	7. The Best Work of the KPA

**The Best Work of the KPA**

Tom woke up as soon as the cold water hit him full force.

"Wuh-what?" He groaned as he came too and quickly realized that he wasn't in his apartment in New York.

Someone yelled in a foreign language, Tom thought it might have been Mandarin, and then he was struck hard in the stomach with a baton.

In the darkened room there was some rustling, along with the sounds of Tom wheezing in pain, and then a light came on.

Tom's brain then took in a lot of information all at once.

Like how he was trussed up in an elaborate stress position that left him vulnerable to virtually any kind of attack, or that he was in a bland looking room with a small number of foreign military personal, along with of all things his two ex-girlfriends from High School.

"Hello Tom," Jane said sweetly, "Sleep well?"

"What's happening?!" Tom exclaimed, "Why are you doing this?!"

Daria grinned, and then Tom knew he was in _serious shit_.

Jane continued to speak for everyone in the room, "Well what's happened is that your apartment was filled with knockout gas, then you were put into a bodybag and stuffed onto an international flight to a country where Daria and I have been residing since we met the love of our lives."

"Yeah," Daria chimed in, "And when he found out about our little 'teenage drama' with you, well..."

Daria was interrupted by the sounds of boots marching, and she and Jane turned around just in time to see the door to the room open.

The soldiers in the room stiffened and saluted as two more soldiers entered, followed by a short, fleshy faced Asian fellow that Tom recognized after a minute's stare.

It then clicked in his inbred head that the uniforms on the soldiers were of the Korean People's Army.

Or the armed forces of North Korea.

"You... you!" Tom stuttered at Kim Jong-un even as Daria and Jane both went to his sides and he kissed them both passionately.

Kim Jong-un smiled and said something in Korean to one soldier wearing a smock.

The guy in the smock then lifted a tarp off of a nearby table and Tom pissed himself when he saw what had been hidden.

Tom began screaming for mercy even before they started to work on him.

Meanwhile the good soldiers of North Korea had set up comfortable chairs and snacks for the Supreme Leader and his new mistresses, and a good time was had by all.

Except Tom, but he didn't count.


	8. Mad Dog's Blessing

**Mad Dog's Blessing**

"Quinn got knocked up again?" Elsie drawled in her smokers voice as she sculpted her latest sculpture.

"Yup." Daria drawled in her monotone as she contemplated a couple plotbunnies for a story.

"So what'd your parents say?"

Daria laughed, "Come on Elsie, you know my parents."

Elsie snickered, "I was kidding. I know that the reason the elder Morgendorffer's aren't jet setters is because they're too damn lazy to get off the couch."

Daria laughed, "True that, I'm just thankful that Mad Dog had all that money stashed away. Otherwise we'd be in the poor house."

"Any idea where he got it from?" Elsie asked.

Daria winced, "Family secret."

"Oh come on," Elsie replied, "It can't be that bad."

Daria winced again.

* * *

><p><em>Jungles of Vietnam, 1970<em>

Sergeant Nathaniel Winston Morgendorffer smirked at his dead comrades as their blood flowed on the altar.

"Sorry boys," He sneered, "But the legends were clear, many could enter the Temple of the Dying, but only _one_ could leave alive."

His gaze fell on the last one to croak as the magic began to activate, "Sorry Perkins, but you're gal and baby will have to fend for themselves."

Then the weird idol began to glow and Mad Dog readied himself to get the blessing of the Lost Gods.

* * *

><p><em>Present<em>

After getting Elsie to focus on another topic, Daria did her best to forget what her Grandfather had told her had happened in that terrible place.

Much less what it meant for her family.

_"Since my worthless boy couldn't even father a son, after I die you gals will feel compelled to sleep around until you get pregnant with a boy." Mad Dog's voice echoed in her mind._

Daria suppressed a shiver, but she took comfort in the fact that she had been favored enough by the old bastard to be given a reprieve.

Instead Quinn would feel the compulsion two-fold, but so far all she had had were miscarried girls.

"But one of the boys at school will father a boy on her eventually." Daria contemplated darkly, "And when that happens the real blessing will kick in."

The baby would grow up, but wouldn't really be the son of Quinn and whoever wound up being the sperm donor.

It would be Mad Dog reborn, with all his memories intact.

"The money he made from all the gold and jewels in that Temple were just a side benefit." Daria reminded herself even as she played with her Rolex.

But the money had made her father into a worthless playboy who had only married Helen Barksdale because he had knocked her up and her family connections were too strong to risk offending them.

Daria smirked as she scribbled down another idea for her Agent Song series, knowing that whatever else happened that Mad Dog would one day return.

"And he'll have a favorite Auntie to help him." Daria whispered to herself.

"What?" Elsie asked as she put a finishing touch on her project.

"Nothing." Daria replied, continuing to write away.


	9. Untitled Scene 3-9-14

"God, Brittany's latest party sucks." Sandi muttered as she dropped her pants and panties before lifting the lid of the tank of the toilet and squatting over it.

Sandi felt her lips curve into a grin, "I'll let her know how I feel with an upper decker."

Sandi then began grunting and squeezing as she let out a massive sample of her homemade chocolate, fresh from oven, right into the top tank of the toilet.

Once she was done Sandi wiped herself and washed her hands.

After touching up her makeup Sandi smiled and stepped out of the bathroom, ignoring the girls in line for the bathroom.

But she did relish Quinn saying, "Finally!" before heading in.

"Maybe this party isn't so bad after all." Sandi mused as she leaned on a nearby wall so she could hear the fireworks.


	10. Untitled Scene 3-9-14 (II)

"Ladies and gentlemen," Jane said quietly into the camera, "Welcome to the best prank in this entire new thread."

Meanwhile Kevin Thompson was climbing onto Mrs. Stoller's rascal and began miming her shaking.

"Oh look at me!" Kevin yelled in an 'old-lady voice', "I'm old! I don't know...AHHHH!"

The AHHHH came about due to the rascal exploding upwards due to a pressure bomb underneath it, releasing the mass of dildos hidden within it.

As Kevin went up in the air, clinging to the rascal, it looked like a fountain of multi-colored dicks was spewing beneath him.

Kevin's screams grew louder as he came back down to Earth, the rascal breaking his fall.

Not to mention breaking apart in the process.

Kevin has a thousand yard stare for a while after that.


	11. Untitled Tom Death Scene

"Since Mommy and Daddy won't pay for beautiful, perky breasts for their sweet little girl. I'll just have to do it my lonesome-self." Tom 'Tammy' Sloane pouted into his/her mirror in a gorgeous gown with fabulous heels and full makeup.

SHe planted some kiss-kisses on the mirror, leaving his pretty lips on the glass.

Then he/she pulled out a huge oil drum filled with silicone and a massive hypodermic needle from hammerspace and tapped the tank like a keg.

"Ok girl's," Tammy said to whatever, "Let's get cracking."

Once the needle was full, she stabbed her left chest muscle and let it rip.

By the time the body was discovered, three days worth of decay had set in.

However Tammy was still in her drag outfit and had a single, G-cup left breast to make herself even more fabulous.

But her right chest was still flat, and therefore not fabulous.

Even in death poor Tammy couldn't reach the heights of fabulousness needed to be perfectly fabulous.


	12. Is It Kevin's On Time Graduation Yet?

**Is It Kevin's On Time Graduation Yet? **

"Holy shit." Daria said in disbelief as fellow student, Kevin Thompson walked up to the podium to receive his diploma.

"I know." Jane said at her side, then she gave an evil grin, "And you _know_ what this means."

Daria sighed.

"It still seems freaking impossible." Daria complained as Kevin got his diploma, which would be added to the pile of athletic awards he had gotten earlier.

Jane just raised an eyebrow, "Ms. Morgendorffer."

"Fine." Daria grunted as stood up on her chair as Kevin turned around, diploma in hand. "Everyone!" Daria yelled in her loudest monotone, "In honor of Kevin doing something I didn't think possible, graduate high school. I, Daria Morgendorffer hereby call for a mass orgy."

Jane then did the honors of ripping off Daria's graduation robes, revealing her naked body to the world.

"Let's all get in a big pile like hamsters!" Cindy, the backgrounder that technically should have been graduating the next year, called out before pulling Daria into a powerful liplock.

She was quickly joined by her friend Kristen, Jane, Jodie, Mack, Brittany, Mr. DeMartino, Jake, Kevin, Doug Thompson, Helen, Bob the Punk, Andrea, Ms. Li, Andrew Landon, Tom Sloane (for some reason), Quinn, Mr. O'Neill, Ted, Ms. Barch, Robert, the math teacher that we never saw, and a whole host of others in the kissings, and the lickings, and the tonguings, and the thrustings, and the moanings, and the oooohhhh that felt _goooood!_

The Graduation Ceremony for the class of 2001 at Lawndale High ended in several climaxes, all of which were quite delectable and enjoyable for all.

Kevin Thompson even got to discover that he enjoyed playing with the girls and the boys.

And just to screw with canon even further, Tom and Jane ran off and got married and had a baby, only to divorce and Jane taking away a big piece of the Sloane fortune as well.

_Jazz hands!_


	13. Untitled Scene 3-16-14

Elsie just shook her head as she spied on her brother as he paraded around the private gardens, thinking he was alone in the manor.

"Cus otherwise I doubt he'd be doing this." Elsie muttered to herself at the sight of what was happening.

Her brother was walking slowly, waving majestically at an imaginary crowd, a pair of unseen heels clacking on the paved path with the hems of a pretty pink princess gown dragging a bit on the ground.

It even came complete with a matching fur cape, opera glasses, purse, and gloves.

"I love you all." Tom cooed to the worshiping public in his head, "Your pretty Princess loves you. But where is my Prince Charming? Where is the one man who is my true love and will bring me my first true love-kiss?"

Elsie decided right then and there to make sure that the next time her brother did this that Tito, the newest (and youngest) Mexican gardener was around.

She'd even bring a camera since no matter what happened, it would be comedy gold.


	14. Free Eats

**Free Eats**

Jane stared aghast at her best friend, Daria Morgendorffer.

It wasn't that they were at school, nor that her friend was standing nonchalantly near her locker.

The thing that had Jane aghast was the fact that her friend was wearing a blue belly shirt with a cutesy deer on it, along with a pair of skin tight jeans and white sneakers.

"Did the bodysnatchers strike Lawndale?" Jane managed to ask (once the crowd of hormonal boys parted).

Daria shrugged, "No, but Artie's skin stealing alien babes told me where to get a great deal on scrunchies."

"...Why Daria? Why?!"

Daria actually smiled, "Because last night I asked Quinn a question that I've always wanted to ask."

"What's that?" Jane asked out of very morbid curiosity.

"I asked her why she really goes on all those dates, and trust me when I say that the answer will have you dressing this way too."

"...Ok I'll bite." Jane said after a full minute of processing all this.

"The whole 'popularity' thing is just a by-product," Daria replied casually, "The real reason that Quinn dates so much is simply to score decent food that doesn't come in frozen lasagna form. That's it."

Jane's jaw dropped.

"I had that same reaction." Daria said to her silently staring friend.

Jane's eye's bugged out, her jaw still dropped.

Daria just waited patiently.

"...That is the most brilliant idea in the history of ever!" Jane breathed.

"I know."

_"Why the hell didn't we think of that?!"_

Daria just shrugged, "Dunno." beat, "Wanna get in on the act while it's hot?"

"...Can you get one of the guys to take me to the mall? Like right now?!"


	15. Daria Learns About the Jem Remake

**Daria Learns About the Jem Remake**

"So there's going to be a remake of Jem, huh?" Jane said while looking over Daria's shoulder.

"Yup." Daria replied as she finished reading the news story and then pulled up another tab and surprised Jane by typing out a quick email and sending it to _Tiffany_ of all people.

"What was that for?!" Jane asked, rubbing her eyes since Daria had typed it so fast that she couldn't read it in time.

Daria turned around with a _very toothy smile_, "I'm going to audition for the role, and if I'm going to be truly outrageous. I'll need makeup tips from the master of the art."

"...Why not Quinn?" Jane squeaked out, and then berated herself for just saying the first thing to pop out of her brain.

"Haven't you seen how diligent Tiffany is with her makeup compared to the rest of the Fashion Drones? She knows more about makeup than Quinn will in a lifetime of shallowness." Daria assured her friend.

Meanwhile as Jane began to try and convince Daria that she lacked the acting chops for the role, one Tiffany Blum-Deckler was reading her email.

Far from what one would expect of her, Tiffany enjoyed the internet since unlike TV with it's flashing lights and colors, or music with it's sounds that made her brain fuzzy, she could view things at her own pace without distractions.

So after two hours of reading Tiffany quietly typed out a short confirmation reply and began to dig through her vast supply of makeup, knowing that if she was going to turn Quinn's Cousin into the perfect girl to play Jem, she'd have to pull out all the stops.

"Maybe... I... Should... Audition... Tooo..." Tiffany muttered to herself, it had been since childhood that she had seen the movie, but she was 50% sure that there had been an Asian backgrounder in that band.

What Tiffany didn't know was that while ultimately she wouldn't land a bit part on Jem, a talent scout would spot her in the lineup and get her a modeling gig for a jewelry company that would lead to a runway show for Dior that would in turn lead to a successful career as the first of a new generation of Supermodels.

But that's another, much better, story.


	16. Angela Li's Date in 98

**Angela Li's Date in 98**

_1998_

"I must admit Ms. Li," Karl Rove said to his lovely middle-aged Asian companion during a light brunch at The Settlement, "by the time I finished your opinion piece I was stunned. Finally there was another human being who thought just like me."

"Oh stop Karl," Li said with a chortle, "You're just trying to flatter me."

"No really, I mean it." Karl assured her with a smile (a nearby baby saw him and began screaming in terror), "Now I know that educating the young is an important, nay laudable career... However you're talents would be better suited working for me."

"What would I have to do?" Li asked him, eyes gleaming with delight.

Karl Rove's devilish grin brought terror to the patron's of the Settlement, and made Ms. Li's underthings a tropical rainforest.

* * *

><p><em><span>2008<span>_

President Angela Rove (nee. Li) sat down in her chair at her new desk in the Oval Office for the first time and shuddered in delight.

It had been a hard road to this point, long years working for her mentor and future spouse, campaigning to put the puppet in charge in 2000, then bribing/blackmailing all those Supreme Court justices to secure the election, sitting on certain information to ensure that a certain tragedy in New York unfolded without those pesky law enforcement agents mucking things up, then using that tragedy to invade Afghanistan, Iraq, _and_ Iran at the same time.

Angela rolled her eyes at the memory of all those naysayers who claimed that America had overstepped it's bounds. How ridiculous since America knew no boundaries, it's power was limitless.

_'Especially with the help of the Happy Camps...'_ a perky voice reminded Angela, causing her to chortle. It had been a great boon to set up all those places of happiness in the countries that America had brought democracy and liberty too. Places that were so happy that all the enemies of the state that went there didn't want to leave.

Ever.

There was a knock at the door.

"Enter!" Angela Rove called out.

"Madam President?" her new Press Secretary, Linda Griffin, "It's time for your interview with Rush."

"Oooh!" President Rove cooed, "I'd forgotten all about that. How's Rushy?"

"He's doing just fine Madame President," Linda assured the best boss she had ever had, "He just got back from his honeymoon with Hot New Wife #12."

"Good for him." Angela replied happily, knowing that her Rushy would provide all the questions that he'd ask to her hubby already, she'd just have to read the cheat sheet that he'd give her during the radio interview.

It was so much easier than those damn TV interviews!

And thus with her Secret Service detail in tow, Angela Rove followed Linda through the corridors of the West Wing to the Green Room where she'd conduct her very first interview inside the White House as it's Commander in Chief.

The moment she stepped in she saw them both, Rush Limbaugh and her dearest husband and First Gentleman of the United States, Karl Rove.

Angela Rove beamed as she heard the tail end of their conversation, a hearty laugh in fact over the complete and utter defeat of that Commie Obama during the election cycle.

Even as Angela shook her head at the thought of someone so freaking liberal, even in the wake the successful establishment of the Complete State of Israel, her predecessor having graciously turning over everything along the banks of the Euphrates and on west over to America's greatest ally, the remaining land being carved up into new puppet states and territories of the United States, Angela Rove decided that she was going to wear a whip cream bikini that night and ride her hubby until the break of dawn.

"It's good to be the President." Angela thought as she sat down for her interview, fully intending to work on wooing Russia and China into an alliance to reshape the world order into something more... orderly.

**Snort-snort!**


	17. Rape Isn't Really All That Funny

**Rape Isn't Really All That Funny**

Jane and Daria stared at the latest abomination to emerge from the PPMB.

"Well," Jane said in her smoker's voice, "It looks like Shiva's hard at work at his latest one-shot."

"Unless it's the latest part of Sexy Daria I don't care." Daria replied.

Jane shrugged, "Do you find Doug Thompson/Mr. O'Neill Slash sexy?"

"Not in the slightest."

"Well it isn't completely consensual," Jane offered up as an enticement.

"You know that rape shouldn't be funny."

"It shouldn't," Jane conceded, "But more often than not when it involves dudes on dudes, all of a sudden something horrifically traumatizing can be played up for yuks."

"What about that Crossed ficlet I did and deleted without posting two years ago where a Crossed!Ted shows Daria a modified clock with the word 'Rape' pasted over the numbers, yells _'Is it that time already?'_ and then has his way with Daria on a pile of glass laughing all the while?" I fourth-wall to the girls.

"Oh god no!"

"What the fuck?!"

"Hey," I reply, "You were the ones who said that gay rape was hysterical."

"That isn't what I meant!" Jane protested, "You're twisting my words around."

"Not really." I reply back, "Oh sure you were being snarky about it, but it was about as funny as that Crossed ficlet that I thought was too much."

"Woah!" Trent groaned from the doorway, "If Shiva thought something crossed the line, then it must have been fucked up."

"...Yeah it was."

"...Are you going to do any more Sexy Daria stuff?" Daria asked, desperate to change the subject.

"I'm trying to get back into my serials," I inform her, "But what happens is that I'll have an idea of what to do, and then just stare at a blank screen for a while unable to articulate it and then I just give up in disgust."

"I know the feeling." Trent said, trying to comfort me.

"...How did my brother get into your house Daria?" Jane asked.

Daria shrugged, "How the hell should I know? It's Shiva's fic."

Jane scratched her nose, "So when does it en-?"

**FIN**


	18. When Gay Marriage Bans Go Horribly Wrong

**When Gay Marriage Bans Go Horribly Wrong**

"Huh, Daria?" Jane asked as she stared at what was going on around her in total shock.

"Yeah?" Daria managed to croak.

_"What the fuck is with everyone having sex in public?! And ohmygod is that Mr. O'Neill with Tad Gupty?!"_

"You don't watch a whole lot of news. Do you?" Daria yelled over the sounds of Upchuck scream-moans as Li worked him over with a cattle prod.

"Why would that matter?"

"You remember that attempt by the Republicans to pass an amendment that bans gay marriage?"

"It passed, right?" Jane asked, then after Daria nodded in the affirmative went, "So how does that relate to... Wow, I didn't think that Mack was into dudes!"

Daria just shook her head and muttered something about glass closets before saying more loudly, "Well the Grand Old Party didn't put a whole lot of thought into the wording of the amendment and rammed it through as fast as they could."

Jane would have raised an eyebrow, if she hadn't be distracted by the sight of Mack and Kevin going at it like woodchucks.

"The way the amendment was phrased, it accidently caused all sex laws to only be applicable to a valid, heterosexual marriage."

Jane's jaw dropped, and not just because she spotted what Jodie and Andrea were using a huge carrot stick for.

"...No way." Jane breathed.

"Way," Daria replied as she spotted Brittany making out with Mr. DeMartino, while Ms. Defoe made out with a different part of his anatomy, "Now the only way any of this would be illegal is if it was being done by a man and a woman who were married together."

Jane stared quietly at the mass orgy for a minute before her face contorted with a devilish grin.

She put an arm around Daria's shoulders and said, "Come with me Ms. Morgendorffer."

"Why?"

"We're going back to my place since there's something I think we've both wanted to do for quite some time."

"...What's that?" Daria asked with trepidation.

"You'll see..."

* * *

><p>"Wow..." Trent drawled as he cradled Daria and Jane closer to him as the slumbered. "I think I'm going to like this new law..."<p>

As he said that, millions of Conservative Christians all across America were having the opposite reaction to all this.

At least the sincere (non-hypocritical) ones were.

The rest were indulging in sin like there was no tomorrow.

But for the sincere ones, they now faced a task even more difficult than getting that Gay Marriage Ban amendment passed.

Getting it repealed!


	19. Plastic is Fantastic

**Plastic is Fantastic**

Daria walked into Casa Lane, the domicile of the only human being to be her friend (Amelia's delusions not withstanding of course) and found herself freezing in shock at what she was seeing.

The entire living room, a previously dilapidated and disorganized mess was no longer a mess.

It had the cleanliness that could only come from a professional's hand, and had been completely remodeled and refurnished to boot!

Daria did a zombie walk to the kitchen and found it in the same state of shocking repair, and went wide-eyed at the full pantry and the new, _working_ fridge with a veritable cornucopia of plenty.

She then walked silently up the re-carpeted stairs and into the repainted hallway, Trent's new door was slightly ajar and she could hear the faint sounds of a state of the art stereo playing. Granted it was playing a Mystik Spiral EP, but at least it was in surround sound.

Daria paused in front of Jane's room for a moment before knocking.

There were some muffled sounds and a yawn before the familiar sound of feet and the door opened.

"Oh, hey Daria!" Jane said before yawning and rubbing her blurry eyes, "When'd you get back from Erin's wedding?"

"A couple hours ago." Daria intoned flatly as she stared at her best friend, in a pair of brand new blood red pajamas, the bedroom behind her having undergone the same remodeling as the rest of the house.

"Ok, I have to ask," Daria said, "Did a group of kindly day laborers move in?"

Jane just laughed, motioning Daria inside, "No such thing Daria."

Before Daria could articulate a response, Jane asked her about the wedding fiasco and Daria filled her in.

"That 'Aunt Amy' of yours sounds cool." Jane commented while sitting down on the small (and fresh smelling) leather chair in front of the (even newer smelling) hi-def 60 inch plasma TV (the 100 inch was in the living room), "Where does she live?"

"Why does that matter?"

"So I'll know what tickets to order at the airport. A day trip next weekend to wherever she is sound good?"

"...Jane?"

"Yeah Daria?"

"Where the fuck did you guys get the money for ANY of this?! Did a rich relative croak? Did your parents find the Solomon Mines?" After that Daria began to sputter.

Jane just smirked, "Nope, all my relations are alive unfortunately. Not to mention while I wouldn't put it past my parents to have _found_ the mines of Solomon. I doubt they'd have seen anything in there that'd of held their attention for more than a minute."

"Th-then? Th-hen?!" Daria continued to sputter away.

"It's my little secret Daria," Jane replied mysteriously while eyeballing a brand new red leather purse on her new nightstand, "But let's just say that a little bit of plastic can take you a long way."

She then laughed, "In fact it can take you to the Infinite... and beyond."

* * *

><p>Meanwhile in Latveria a certain tyrant just got a look at his Visa Infinite bill for the last month...<p>

**"Who dares defile DOCTOR DOOM'S credit score?!"**


	20. Plastic is (even more) Fantastic

**Plastic is (even more) Fantastic**

_'I kissed your boyfriend'_ echoed in Jane's head over and over as she ran right out of Lawndale High, her combat boots not even slowing her down.

_'I kissed your boyfriend. I kissed Tom. I didn't mean to.'_

Jane kept running.

_'I kissed your boyfriend.'_

Her house came into sight in the distance.

_'I kissed your boyfriend.'_

Jane came right within two houses of Casa Lane.

_'I kissed your boyfri-__**STOP!**__'_

Jane suddenly stopped in mid-stride, turning as rigid as a board, panting heavily and sweating buckets, however her eyes narrowed as she saw her own house.

"Fuck finding Sloane and beating him up." Jane grunted to herself in between labored breaths as she forced herself to move, not in the direction of the Crewe Neck and the home of that motherfucking sonofabitch-.

The rage filed thoughts became so much more tightly focused as Jane reached the door and turned the knob and stepped, calmly, inside the house.

* * *

><p><em>Three Day Time Lapse<em>

In three days time, Daria and Tom became very worried since they hadn't seen one sight of Jane Lane, and they were both turned away at the door by Trent who would only say that "Janie's ok, she just wants to be alone right now." and nothing else.

Jane however hadn't been idle.

A series of phone calls were made from Casa Lane, a ton of bizarre things were ordered and sent all over the world, all of which were charged to a certain piece of plastic that normally resided in Jane's favorite red leather handbag.

But the last one was made on a specially ordered cell phone that could, among many other things, fake the location where the caller was calling from, screwing completely with any attempts to trace the call.

Or...

"Oh hello Mr. Doom." Jane said in a faux-old lady voice, "I'm calling from Visa about a large number of suspicious purchases made to your account..."

* * *

><p><em>The Fourth Day<em>

Everything was a blur for one Daria Morgendorffer, she was crashed on her family's living room couch with a box of tissues (unused, handed to her by Quinn), a blanket wrapped around her, all attempts by family to talk to her were ignored.

The reason for all this was playing on a seemingly continuous loop on the news.

"...And in latest developments it was discovered that three of the four members of the Sloane family were brutally tortured before the manor along with the adjacent private community was assaulted by servo-robots believed to be in the service of Victor von Doom, better known as Doctor Doom. The fourth, Elsie Sloane is still considered to be missing. The government of Latveria has refused to comment."

A loud knock at the door nearly caused Daria to jump out of her skin.

After a non-heroic '"Eep!" Daria managed to untangle herself out of the blanket and went to answer the door.

The person on the side was the last person she expected to see.

"Jane!"

Her friend looked perfectly healthy, though for some reason she was wearing a red shirt, jeans, and running shoes instead of her usual ensemble.

"Hey Daria," Jane replied as if it was any other day, "How you doin'?"

Daria just pulled her into a hug, Jane seemed a bit surprised for a moment before returning the hug.

As she followed Daria in, Jane toyed with the idea of some big, climatic speech but decided to skip it.

_'I think I can forgive her in time,'_ Jane thought, _'But right now she's as hurt and confused as I was right after the confession.'_

Thus two teenage girls sat down and the scorned one began to lay a foundation for a friendship renewed, and it was all thanks to a piece of plastic known as a Visa Infinite card.


	21. The Death of Grandma Barksdale

**The Death of Grandma Barksdale**

In a ridiculously opulent bedroom in an even more ridiculously opulent mansion that would have made Louis XIV say, "This is too much, tone it down!" an old woman by the name of Georgina Veronica Edith Barksdale. Otherwise known to her friends as 'Hissy-Misty' (the story behind it lost in the mists of time) or to her family as 'Grandma Barksdale', was doing what little old ladies do.

She was wrapped up in expensive blankets, nice and warm in spite of Death's icy cold grip on what was left of her heart. In chairs around her were her children and grandchildren, the last remaining family that she had left.

Her eldest daughter Rita was right at her side, providing comfort while her beautiful daughter Erin sat nearby, bouncing in Erin's lap was a baby boy named Liam, the only good thing to come about from her ex-husband, Brian.

Then there was her stubborn middle child Helen, always walking her own path even now with her husband in tow with their daughters, Daria and Quinn, both of whom had clearly taken to college life well considering how they had bloomed into real, young women seemingly right under her nose.

Then a little bit apart was her youngest, Amy, sitting quietly and alone. Even now on her death bed she had to suppress a sigh of regret, the only person who made more mistakes with Amy than her was her beloved husband.

Georgina closed her eyes for a moment, glad that her final affairs had already been taken care of, glad that her family had begun to mend fences even before her cancer diagnosis, glad that her children were getting along now, glad everyone would be able to get on with their lives without her...

Georgina felt her eyes flutter open and smiled, her husband Herbert was there now, as handsome as the day she had first spotted him at the Starry Night Ball all those decades ago.

She smiled and said, "I love you..."

She then closed her eyes and didn't open them again.

She slipped into the embrace of sleep, her breathing slowed down, her heart grew weaker and weaker, and then... nothing.

Georgina Veronica Edith Barksdale was dead.

She was 71.


	22. Ways that Stacy Makes Money

**Ways that Stacy Makes Money**

Stacy Rowe sighed as she flipped through her copy of Runway, there were so many beautiful, fashionable clothes out there, and with the economy in the crapper she couldn't afford to buy things like that.

"Hell, if I was a teenager I'd have trouble affording the crap in Waif, or Val." Stacy muttered to herself in disgust.

Living in New York wasn't cheap, and her current job just wasn't anywhere enough to feed her passion for fashion.

She sighed again, "Guess I'll have to do some odd jobs. Again."

* * *

><p>Job #1.<p>

"Dolphin meat, dolphin meat," Stacy sang in the dingy backroom while sharpening her machete, "It's nature's tasty treat!"

In the makeshift tank, two dolphins made fearful squeaks as the strange woman stared at them with cold eyes, her face lit up by flying sparks.

* * *

><p>Job #2.<p>

Stacy smiled sweetly at the middle schooler approached her. In the kid's hand was a twenty, and in her hand was a bag of pot.

As he handed her the twenty and she handed him the pot, the poor kid didn't see the figure in the shadows approaching him.

Stacy watched with indifference as the muscle grabbed the kids mouth with one hand, while injecting him in the neck with an impressive cocktail of knockout drugs.

Once he was on the ground, Stacy swiped the twenty and helped her partner stuff the kid into a body bag and load him up into the van.

She was then handed her cut of the finder's fee and watched with indifference as the van sped away.

"Either some Arabic prince is going to have a new toy or some old rich bitch just got herself a new set of kidneys." Stacy thought to herself with a smirk.

* * *

><p>Job #3.<p>

"Meow!"

"Meow, meow!"

"Meow, meow. Meow meow meow meow... Meow!"

As Patrick Hackney the Sixth then paused in their game to get a drink of water, for the life of her the why of this kink eluded her.

"How exactly is just meowing in a made-up language supposed to be sexy?" Stacy pondered for the millionth time before resuming the game.

She was getting paid by the hour, and if she made past five she'd get three thousand bucks.

So she meowed away.

* * *

><p>Job #4.<p>

Stacy was lying on a table, rigid and wearing her best happy face.

Thinking about all sorts of things.

Like bunnies, or kitties, or bunnies and kitties trying to make skittles.

Silly, happy things.

Things that had nothing to do with the fact that she was on a table, wearing nothing but some leaves as a bunch of Japanese businessmen ate sushi off her otherwise naked body.

"I wonder if they'd buy my panties?" Stacy briefly wondered, after all if she could get an extra buck or two out of this then... why not?

* * *

><p>Job #5.<p>

Stacy slipped on the frilly pink little Hello Kitty panties and set the timer for ten minutes. With music playing in the background as a distraction, Stacy glanced at the plastic bags and shipping boxes, not even wanting to contemplate the small pile of underwear she still had to wear.

Much less what was going to happen to her unmentionables, or who was buying them!

* * *

><p>Job #6.<p>

"What are these little babies called again?" Her latest customer asked her, munching away on the little blue pills like they were running out.

"Just a little happy energy pill I invented," Stacy answered him sweetly, "I call them Stimutax. Catchy huh? It's mostly kelp with a special ingredient that'll give you all kinds of energy!"

As the guy handed her a hundred bucks for a whole bottle of the stuff, she did feel a smidge sorry for the hallucinogenic toads and the toxic fish she had killed to make the secret ingredient.

Then she remembered that cute Gucci dress in Runway and the guilt died a quick, painful death.

* * *

><p>Job #7.<p>

"...And then I have them put the drop of blood next to their signature." Stacy recited her instructions, "After that you'll take care of the rest. Got it!"

Satan smiled at his latest, and so far most promising minion since Jack the Ripper, "Exactly..."

* * *

><p>"Wow!" Stacy moaned as she stumbled back into her apartment after a hard days work, "I didn't think dolphins could put up that much of a fight, getting people to sell their souls was so much easier."<p>

She then laughed while flopping on the couch, kicked off her shoes and muttered, "That should be enough for a decent shopping trip this weekend. Look out Manhattan, cus Stacy Rowe wants couture and I'll gut a bitch to get it!"

The entire City of New York then suffered a mysterious tremor that would be mistakenly attributed to fracking in the upper east side.

Those who knew better did the smart thing by making plans to move somewhere safer.

Like the Gaza Strip, or North Korea.

**END**


	23. Griffin and Flowers Bank

**Griffin and Flowers Bank**

"Wow Sandi!" Quinn exclaimed at what her old High School friend was showing her, "This is really your bank?!"

Sandi just smirked, "Why yes it is Quinn."

Quinn couldn't help but gape at the opulent Grecian styled building, if it wasn't for the sign you'd think it was a reconstructed Parthenon.

"How'd did you afford to get this off the ground?" Quinn asked in awe.

Sandi just kept smirking and motioned for her to follow, as they walked into the building she began to explain, "You remember that escort business that I ran? Well that was just to get the seed money for what I really wanted to do. It also helped me get to know the right investors."

Quinn began to say while looking around the gleaming marble interior, "What?" But then it clicked in her head, "Oh, right."

Sandi then reached an elevator and swiped her security card, causing the door to open, after they stepped in and Sandi pushed the button for the fifth floor, she continued. "I had everything set in place to launch this place when the damn economy tanked. However when the investment banks merged with the regular banks in order to stabilize themselves, I saw an opportunity, so I restructured the plan to make what was going to be a regular bank into an investment bank."

The elevator dinged and the doors opened to reveal an even more lavish hallway than the ground floor.

"Are those original Rembrandts?"

Sandi answered, "A few, but others were done by lesser known Dutch Renaissance artists."

Quinn just sighed, "Wow, and here I thought I was doing so well as a private equity investor. This place is going to blow everybody from Lawndale High out of the water."

Sandi just laughed as they reached the end of the hallway and Sandi swiped her security card to open the door to her private office.

Quinn thought she had seen it all, but sheer decadence of Sandi's office put everything else about the building to shame.

_'And that's saying something.'_ Quinn thought to herself as she took a seat, Sandi however walked to the big bay window overlooking a nearby park.

While looking out the window Sandi added, "It wasn't easy to survive those lean early months, but now that the bailout money has calmed the market down there is a need for investment banking..."

"And Griffin and Flowers is going to fill the void." Quinn completed for her.

"Exactly."

"But why all the décor? I mean you've already made waves but..."

Sandi laughed, "Because a bank should make everyone that walks in feel rich, half of what banking _is_; is simply a game of smoke and mirrors. The best way to get started is to bluff until you've made it."

"And then you can really go to town." Quinn finished for her.

Sandi turned around, smiling ecstatically, "This is why I brought you here Quinn. Because out of everyone in your field, you are undeniably the best. And Griffin and Flowers only hires the best."

"Hire?" Quinn breathed in surprise.

"What? You thought I just brought you here to gloat? Quinn, I've grown way past that dumb 'Fashion Club' drama crap." Sandi answered with a chuckle, finally sitting down at her desk. "No, I know that you've grown past that crap as well. Hell, I've heard Stacy's done well for herself as a race car driver on the NASCAR circuit."

"And Tiffany's doing that psychic hotline." Quinn added with a snort.

"1-800-GETRIPPEDOFF." Sandi said in a faux robot voice.

They shared a laugh before Sandi brought them down to earth with, "So now I only have one question... Are you in?"

Quinn didn't even hesitate, "Yes. Yes I'm in."

"Then welcome to Griffin and Flowers." Sandi answered, barely able to restrain her glee.

The global investment market was ripe for the picking, and now she had the most promising of the up and coming private equity investors on board. Not to mention that the investment economy was showing every sign of recovery (the regular economy not so much, but that didn't matter).

It was her time, it was Griffin and Flower's Bank's time.

As Quinn began to go over the contracts of her employment, with the right to have a notary look over things as well, Sandi couldn't help but feel as if things had come full circle.

Even with all the crap that life had thrown at her, she couldn't resist thinking that now all was right with the world.


End file.
